Shadows of Humanity

by J. Armand

  “If you die, which would be great, they’ll have their sword back,” I snapped.

  “The curse doesn’t end until everyone who’s tainted the katana dies. Anyone who’s touched it will be on the list.” Noah suddenly knew more about the situation than he had pretended to earlier.

  “That’s why you had me steal it for you, isn’t it? I never should have trusted you.”

  “I warned you,” Vance chimed in. The rest of the windows shattered, throwing shards of glass at us like knives. The wind itself became painful against my skin. It was hard to breathe.

  “Let’s get this over with.” I headed for the door, knocking Noah’s feet off the table on the way out.

  Chapter Ten

  “What’s he saying?” This new spirit was a lot more fun than the last one. I couldn’t understand a word he said, but as soon as Noah and I walked out he started flexing and kissing his biceps, then snickering and pointing at Noah to mock him.

  “Something about you smelling bad.” Noah had his hands on his hips, trying to play it cool, but I knew him and could tell he was seething on the inside. The man came closer, pointing to his incisors like he was trying to show us they were normal. Then he pointed to Noah’s fangs and indicated with his fists that he was going to knock them out.

  “I don’t speak Japanese, but if you can understand me, I’m all for that!” I shouted over the gale-force winds.

  “He’s speaking Korean, dipshit.” Noah crossed his arms. He still had a couple inches and a few pounds on this other guy, but I’d love to see Noah taken down a peg, I thought. Out of my life for good would work, too. The man clapped his hands in laughter and crossed his arms, mimicking Noah. Up close, I could see his eyes were almost pure white, like an albino’s ivory orbs. They were striking against his very tan skin. He had a tattoo of a tiger sweeping across most of his body from front to back. He compared it to Noah’s tattoos with animated gestures of mockery.

  “Isn’t Muy Thai from Thailand, not Korea?” I asked, after taking note of the rope hand wraps that ran the length of the spirit’s forearms and another set around his upper arms.

  “Who cares?” Noah said something in what I assumed was Korean. It must have been rather rude, judging by the man’s change in expression. Noah smiled and held out the prized katana to gloat over it. He flipped it around to hold it by the blade and offered the hilt to the spirit. Maybe he had finally come to his senses. All this trouble over a stupid sword wasn’t worth it.

  My faith in him was misplaced as usual. In a flash, Noah was behind the man, driving the sword through his back. The spirit didn’t bleed, but he winced in incredible pain. He transformed into a gust of wind, throwing Noah and I into the air, before Noah could chop off his head.

  Taking flight wasn’t an option in the storm. It was arduous enough trying to get back to the ground without being thrown off course. The chapel was ripped from its foundation and smashed to pieces, adding large amounts of dangerous debris to the vortex. There was no sign of the Strigoi, who must have taken refuge underground.

  Noah had been thrust out of his mist form as he tried to stop spinning helplessly. He was left at the mercy of the spirit, who showed he was able to move deftly through the storm. The man struck Noah with his fists repeatedly, sending him careening around the speeding winds. Noah struggled to get his bearings, but adapted well to being off the ground for someone who couldn’t fly. He managed to keep the katana in his grasp and counter the spirit’s oncoming fists with tempered steel.

  Noah grappled with the man as both of them tumbled through the air. The spirit had Noah by the arm as it tried to wrench the sword away, while Noah used his free arm to try and snap the spirit’s neck. The two fought until finally the sword fell at my feet. I thought the spirit would dive for it, but he continued to trade blows with Noah, turning their battle into a disorienting mid-air brawl. I was getting dizzy keeping track of their movement around and around until the wind came to an abrupt stop. Noah landed on his feet a second before the spirit’s body crashed to the ground.

  “Amateur.” Noah spat blood at his fallen opponent. His cuts and bruises healed away as he sauntered over to claim his prize again. A bolt of lightning struck between us, blocking Noah from the sword.

  “Not again,” I moaned as the shadowed figure appeared with his polearm and showed his true self. Behind Noah the wind spirit got to his feet and cracked his neck back in place. “Oh, come on!”

  “You can have the sword. Do what you want with Noah. I’m not part of this.” I threw up my hands and went to walk away. A gust carried the wind spirit to block my path. I tried motioning with my hands up that I wasn’t involved as I sidestepped around him. My attempt at peace was met with a bone-breaking punch to my ribs that sent me sailing past Noah, who just waved to me. I had to lie there for an agonizing moment to let myself regenerate. I watched through tears as both spirits converged on Noah.

  The added challenge of fighting two-on-one invigorated Noah. I didn’t want to admit it, but seeing him take on both spirits at once was amazing. He wasn’t just holding his own, but punishing them with devastating blows from his blades and fists at every opportunity. Most of the time the man with the polearm was able to parry, but the raw strength behind Noah’s attacks caused the spirit to recoil and left him vulnerable.

  It didn’t last long, sadly, as Noah made a grave mistake by turning to mist to dodge a strike from the polearm. The wind spirit turned into a small-scale twister that caught and trapped Noah. The other man stabbed the ground in the eye of the storm with his polearm and electrified it, sending Noah’s sizzling body tumbling.

  Noah couldn’t recover fast enough from the paralyzing bolt. The wind spirit leapt from the twister and grabbed Noah by the arm as he fell. The spirit pinned Noah’s face in the dirt with one foot on the back of his head and violently twisted Noah’s arm in an attempt to dislodge the katana. Noah couldn’t break free without using his mist form, which he knew would only land him back in the same unfortunate position. The struggle ended with an excruciating crunch as Noah’s shoulder, elbow, and wrist snapped.

  He reeled in pain, letting the wind spirit take possession of the katana. The wind spirit plunged it through Noah’s heart. The man sat on Noah’s chest laughing and slapping him in the face as Noah lay there lifelessly impaled to the ground. Droplets of blood left Noah’s body through the wound and traveled up the blade, turning it red. I had never seen a sword do that before. That must be why it’s special enough to be cursed, I thought. Noah’s golden tan turned gray as the blood was slowly drained from his inanimate body.

  I wanted him out of my life. He was dangerous and untrustworthy, but my conscience felt differently. I tried to tell myself that I was only helping Noah in order to help myself as I watched the man with the polearm kick him. The anguish on Noah’s face was evident as he lay there helplessly. I wouldn’t be able to take on both of the spirits myself. I needed Noah, for now. That’s all this was. I won’t let myself trust him again. If I help him here I can use that to bargain a truce later. Not that that had ever worked in the past.

  I tried to call the katana from Noah’s body and immediately the wind spirit stopped punching Noah in the face to hold it down. The lightning spirit threw his polearm at me, but I was ready this time. I caught it with my powers and snapped it in two. With one forceful telekinetic blast I launched the warriors away, counting on them to take the sword with them. They didn’t fall for my ruse and left the katana in Noah. When I went to pull it out, the wind spirit grabbed me from behind in a crushing bear hug, then transformed into a small cyclone. I knew what he was trying to do. I summoned pieces of the collapsed chapel walls to buffer the winds and shelter me from the lightning.

  From underneath my makeshift hiding spot I had a line of sight on Noah. Both spirits were too distracted breaking down my walls to notice me pull the katana from his heart. Noah vanished the second he was unstaked. I threw off the rubble around me to cause a distraction. I knew Noah would g
o for the wind spirit first to settle their rivalry, so I took the lightning one. I also knew they were deadlier together since their powers were complementary.

  As soon as Noah engaged the wind spirit with a sword to the back of the skull I began putting all my focus into crushing the lightning spirit. I envisioned a bubble around him collapsing from all sides. It felt like he was made of metal, but I gradually made progress, dooming the man to a slow, torturous demise. He let loose bolts of lightning in retaliation. I blocked them with floating rubble. I couldn’t concentrate on everything and had to let him go.

  Noah was in the distance. The katana exchanged hands between him and the wind spirit a dozen times. He still had both his wakizashi at his hips. That gave me an idea.

  I summoned both wakizashi to me and spun them together like propeller blades. The lightning spirit had no weapon to parry with, but he dodged the blades with ease as I got him used to a simple pattern… and then separated the blades. The lightning warrior dodged away from one blade and right into the other. All it took was one full turn to sever his head from his shoulders. He exploded in a wave of azure light. I shot the wakizashi outward, missing Noah by a hair, and plunged them into the wind spirit’s eyes.

  “Give me this.” I flew over and grabbed the katana from Noah’s hand. I beheaded the spirit, letting him explode into a white light.

  “Um…” Noah stared at me, befuddled.

  “If you ever interfere in my life again you better be damn sure you know how to kill me first.” I shoved the katana back in his hands and stormed off to pull Vance from his rabbit hole.

  ---

  “The sword is called Juuchi Yosamu, Ten Thousand Cold Nights, although some refer to it as Muramasa, the name of the sword master who forged it.” Noah sat on a crate in the Strigoi’s underground bunker, disclosing all he knew about the katana. He was pretty beaten up and I knew he needed blood, but it wasn’t coming from me. It surprised me that he hadn’t demanded it already. “I found it in a hidden shrine under the Kiyomizu Temple in Kyoto. There are several legends about where it originated from and how it got its power. All I know is that it drinks blood and cuts sharper than any blade I’ve ever handled.”

  “Why would you need a sword that drinks blood when you already do that yourself?” I knew I shouldn’t bother asking just to get some half-assed answer.

  “I can think of a few applications,” Vance said. “It wouldn’t be used to harvest food, but to wear down those more impervious, blood-reliant opponents when a quick death isn’t an option. Say, a particularly troublesome undead?”

  “How do we stop the curse?” Noah asked, wiping the blood from his nose. “And don’t say give it back. This is all I have.” There was something melancholy in the way he said it.

  “Spirits aren’t necessarily tethered to objects in order to exist on this plane like ghosts are, but they can be summoned,” Vance explained. “It isn’t as simple as breaking a tether and banishing them back to their dimension. You would need magic more powerful than the kind protecting it in order to cast a counter-spell. I would have to know more about the sword, the curse, and its origin. Go back to where you found the sword and find the truth so I know what we are dealing with.”

  “You’re coming with me. I’m not really the research type,” Noah said to Vance.

  “I’m not really the field type, and I will be warding this place against the elements in case we get another visit while you are gone.”

  “What’s wrong, Noah? Scared you’ve lost your edge?” I had to get one more jab in.

  “I don’t get scared.” Noah’s eyes cut like daggers. “And you’re coming with me, kid.”

  “Like hell I am,” I laughed. “Let them come after me. I think I proved I can handle myself. As far as I’m concerned you owe me, again, so you and I are done.” I waited for a snappy comeback, a threat – anything.

  “I need blood.”

  “Good luck with that,” I refused, throwing his own catchphrase back at him.

  “Our synthetic reserves are low,” Vance said. “I’m afraid you’ll have to go elsewhere.”

  “Happy hunting,” I smirked. Noah left without another word. “A swordsman without a sword is just a man, but a man with his pride is nothing,” I recited.

  “You handled yourself admirably tonight,” Vance commented. The other Strigoi passed by the small concrete room carrying books and various research supplies and trying to salvage what they could from the wreckage above. “This is more like the power you were created to have.”

  “Yeah, thanks.” Without even wanting to, I had fulfilled the purpose I was designed for: protecting my creators. “Nice place you have here. Sorry about your house.”

  “It was only a dupe to mask the laboratory. Nothing important was lost. If you wish to repay me, however, you could donate a sample of blood or tissue, or an organ or two.” The harsh fluorescent lighting made Vance’s undead flesh appear even more sickly and conspicuous.

  “Fine, but first I want to know more about this looming darkness Rozalin talked about. I met another Ancient that mentioned it too.”

  “Another Ancient?” Vance looked concerned.

  “His name was Castile Belanger. Do you know him?”

  “Ah, the ex-Archios. There aren’t many Ancients in the first place, but his name is fairly well-known because of his very public falling-out with Aurelia. They were uneasy allies for a time until she usurped his rule in England.”

  “He mentioned the darkness coming and resetting the world, like when you mentioned the battle between Heaven and Hell spilling out on to the Earth.”

  “I suppose it would be a dark time for us all, yes. Whether literal or metaphorical, I can’t say. I am no theologian, but many human religions believe similarly in an end and rebirth to the world. It would be impossible to efficiently prepare for such an event.”

  “Minerva didn’t think so and I can’t believe you would just accept the end like that. What exactly are you working on down here?” I asked as a bald Strigoi man passed us for the fifth time carrying equipment. He was wearing strange goggles that looked like an exaggerated version of a watchmaker’s glasses. This time, his clothes were spattered with blood.

  “Oh, some things. Uh, nothing too interesting. Certainly nothing to worry yourself over. A lot of reading, really. Minerva was convinced that the denizens of Hell would reward her for her loyalty, but they will tempt you with whatever you desire most to add you to their ranks.” Vance dodged the question with the finesse of a four-year-old. “Now about that sample?”

  “Yeah, sorry,” I said as I made my way up the ladder to leave. “I lied.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Six days later I dragged myself onto the Blackbourne’s property. I was cold, hungry, and most of all, exhausted. I hadn’t eaten or slept for a week as I backpacked across Europe, sans backpack. Without Noah to sneak us onto planes, I could only fly short distances at night. By the fourth day I became paranoid, waiting for an ambush that never came. Maybe Noah had broken the curse, or the spirits were too busy chasing him. Either way it meant peace and quiet for me. Lonely peace and quiet. I was looking forward to being back with the Blackbournes, even if they were a bunch of deviants.

  “Dorian!” William ran up to me after I was let in through the gate. His face was wearier than ever. His quest against the undead must have been taking its toll on his body, and undoubtedly on his mind. “Thank the Lord. We were starting to think we’d never find you.”

  “I’m sorry, it’s a long story.” I was so out of breath it was hard to express my joy. In spite of having sufficient time, I wasn’t able to come up with a good excuse for my disappearance. It was time to come clean with the truth. “Why’s your pocket glowing?”

  William looked puzzled and retrieved the amulet from his pants pocket. A shining light overpowered the morning sun and immediately ignited my skin with searing flames. I tried to shield my eyes, but all I could see was William’s silhouette in the glare before ever
ything went black.

  ---

  The single overhead light wasn’t enough to reach the perimeter of the dark room where I woke up. I tried to move, but my arms and legs were restrained with iron shackles fixed in the stone wall. I tried to make sense of what had happened as I came to. Why had the amulet burned me?

  Something was moving in the shadows next to me.

  “Hello?” I groaned. “Who’s there?” There was no answer except the sound of rattling chains. Using my powers, I felt out the shape of a body in the direction the sound was coming from.

  “Emily?” I asked again, but there was still no response. I swung the hanging light to catch a glimpse of who it was and gasped in fright. The body of a girl hung shackled to the wall. Her dark brown hair was stringy and matted. Clumps were missing from her scalp. She was motionless except for a sporadic twitch that made her body spasm and shake the chains. Her dead unblinking eyes stared straight down and her skin even more gray than the Strigoi at their worst. There were numerous cuts all over her body, but worst of all was the wooden stake that penetrated her heart. I removed it from her with my telekinesis and called out her name again.

  “Who are you?” she cried in fear. “Where’s William?”

  “I’m Dorian. Emily, did William do this to you?” I already knew the answer, but I didn’t want it to be true.

  “You are the first visitor I’ve had. Other than William, of course.”

  “Visitor? Emily, I’m chained to a wall. We’re prisoners.”

  “No, that isn’t true! He loves me. He’s keeping me here to contain the evil I hold inside until he finds a way to cure me. If you are here too that means you must be a friend in need.”

  Love is blind – she’s delusional. She must have been here for almost a decade in this condition. How could she be so complacent about being imprisoned? I wondered.

  “Just because you’re different doesn’t mean you’re evil, Emily. What he’s doing to you isn’t love, it’s torture.”